CHAPTER 10 – A CELEBRATION WORTH ITS WEIGHT IN GOLD

Since everyone was now on their feet, the girls thought it would indeed be a good time to bring out the desserts. Mary Ann started to clear the table, but Ginger stopped her.

"I'll take care of that. Since you did most of the cooking, why don't you let me clean up and get the desserts," she offered.

"Are you sure, Ginger?" asked Mary Ann, furrowing her brow a bit with concern as she often did.

"Sure, I'm sure," replied the movie star with the wave of her hand. "Relax for once."

A look of relief crossed the farm-girl's face.

"That would be wonderful. Thanks Ginger!" was Mary Ann's sincerely grateful reply. As much as she enjoyed cooking, it was an exhausting task sometimes, and she really had gone all out with the special items that she had prepared for their anniversary meal. Being relieved of dish-duty was a much welcomed offer.

Gilligan had taken his turn at the record player, winding up the faithful device, and beautiful music was once again providing a lovely backdrop for their evening. The first mate then meandered back over to the table, took his cap from his head and clutched it in his hands.

"Mary Ann, do you wanna dance?" he asked simply and politely.

"Oh, thank you very much, Gilligan," Mary Ann replied with a sweet smile.

As Ginger passed them, headed off towards the kitchen area, she took her free hand and tickled Gilligan a bit under his chin and whispered with a smile, "Don't forget to save a dance for me too, sailor." She gave him a little wink, and continued on her way.

"Okay, Ginger," Gilligan replied, blushingly slightly as he watched her walk away. Even though she was carrying a handful of dirty plates and utensils, she still exited with her characteristic sway, her white dress sparkling as the beading moved with each step.

Back at the table, Mr. and Mrs. Howell had taken the opportunity they had to aid the Skipper and the Professor on with their gifted ascots. The Skipper was fumbling with his, unable to get it situated correctly.

"Come, my good man. Allow me to assist you," offered Mr. Howell.

The Skipper fidgeted, feeling a bit like a school boy getting ready for his first dance.

"Captain, do stand still!" demanded the millionaire, as he made the final adjustments. "There. I do believe you look quite smashing."

The Skipper looked around for something even mildly reflective so he could catch a glimpse of himself. The closest thing he could find was the back of a metal spoon. Even though the image was slightly distorted because of the curvature of the utensil, he was quite pleased with his upgraded look.

Mrs. Howell had turned her attention to the Professor, who was having far less difficulty with his gift. All she did was reach over and straighten it a bit.

"My, Professor, you do look quite dashing!" said Mrs. Howell with a large approving smile.

"Why thank you Mrs. Howell, both for the generous gift, and your gracious support," he said, looking back at the heiress with the most genuine of smiles.

"Think nothing of it, dear boy." Touching the Professor lightly on the arm, Mrs. Howell leaned in and lowered her voice. "Professor, even though I'm certainly not old enough to actually be your mother, I want you to know you can always come to me, dear, if you need some assistance or advice - you know - from the perspective of a mature female, that is…"

The Professor smiled again at her comments. Even though they had all spent years together on the island, none of the others had any idea how old Mrs. Howell really was. That was her carefully guarded secret.

Out of the corner of his eye, the Professor noticed Ginger approaching, carrying all the desserts on one large tray.

"Here, let me help you with that," he said as he hurried over and took the weighty object from her and carried it over to the table.

"Thanks, Professor," Ginger replied, shaking her arms, grateful to be relieved of the heavy burden. She took her seat the table, and the Skipper and the Professor began slicing up the pies and other desserts into appropriate sized portions. The sugary, sweet scent of baked goods quickly drew everyone else back to their seats and the group began to savor the festive spread.

"These desserts look simply maaarvelous, girls!" proclaimed Mrs. Howell.

"Sorry there's no ice cream, Mrs. Howell," said Ginger, "but this is the best we could do with the items from our island grocery store."

"Oh, never mind that, dear. There will be plenty of time for frozen treats once we are rescued. Tonight is a time for tropical fare anyway."

"And we certainly have plenty of it!" proclaimed a happy Skipper. "You girls really outdid yourselves tonight. Why, we have coconut cream pie, mango pie and… what's this one?" he asked, unable to recognize it right away.

"I made that one just for Gilligan," replied Mary Ann. "It's his favorite – coconut, papaya and tuna fish pie."

As all the others recoiled, holding their hands to their stomachs or rolling their eyes, Gilligan flashed a huge smiled, licked his lips and moved that particular pie closer to him. He knew no one else would want even a bite of it, but he was sure that he would have no problem finishing it off all by himself.

The other desserts circulated around the table, each castaway taking bits of their favorites and putting them on their plates.

"Delicious!" proclaimed Mr. Howell as he took a bite of what had become their signature island treat.

Mrs. Howell was equally delighted with the taste. "Mary Ann dear, I do believe you should write up your recipes so they can be duplicated once we are rescued. As relieved as I shall be to return home, I don't think I will want to throw a party without serving one of these coconut cream pies. I must admit, I have become quite fond of them."

Mary Ann's face brightened at the suggestion. "An island cookbook. Why, that's a wonderful idea Mrs. Howell!" she proclaimed with enthusiasm. Putting her hand to her chin she wondered out loud, "Hmmm… now I wonder what I should call it?"

"How about, 'A Million Ways to Cook a Coconut'," mumbled Gilligan through a mouthful of dessert, chuckling at his own suggestion.

The rest of the group laughed as well. Coconuts had certainly played an integral part in their lives over the years. They had eaten them every way one could think of – sliced and diced, chopped and shredded, baked and fried. But Mary Ann thought that there was so much more that should go into their cookbook. She asked Ginger if she could include her wonderful recipe which she had created there on the island. It was a tart of sorts, made with a mix of blueberries and blackberries and a touch of lime – a dessert which they had all become quite fond of. The movie star was quick to agree. The Skipper of course offered to share his steak grilling tips, and thought that perhaps his special seasoning ideas for barbequed spare ribs could also go into the cookbook.

"I can give you my secret recipe for brandied peaches," offered Mr. Howell.

"Oh, Thurston!" said Mrs. Howell rolling her eyes. "Leaving out the peaches isn't much of a secret," she said with the waive of a gloved hand.

"Perhaps you're right, my dear. It is a family recipe after all… must keep that one close to the vest. I'm sure you understand Mary Ann, dear… privacy issues and all…ha!" he continued muttering with a smile.

Mrs. Howell went on to suggest that if Mary Ann was going to create a cookbook, then Ginger most certainly should produce a record once they were rescued. She felt her lovely voice deserved to be heard by as many people as possible. Ginger was delighted with the idea. Once the subject of Ginger's abilities as a songstress came up, it didn't take very long for the group to persuade her to entertain them right then with a few of their favorites. Her enchanting and strong voice echoed through the evening air, as clear and beautiful as it had ever been.

After Ginger's performance, and at Gilligan's urging, the Skipper went on to relate several amusing anecdotes about various characters he encountered during the years he spent working around the marina. He had some particularly funny stories about two brothers named Scotti and Vito who always managed to make an appearance and cause some kind of trouble. He soon all the group laughing with his wild tales, some so much that they could hardly catch their breath.

Even Mrs. Howell, as reserved as she was, could not help but wrinkle up her nose in delight. "Oh, Captain! You can't be serious!" she would interject with a large smile on her face as she would wave one of her gloved hands toward him.

As the evening progressed, some of the others took their turns in providing a little entertainment for their anniversary celebration. Mr. Howell eventually pulled a deck of cards out of his jacket pocket and amazed the group with a few sleight of hand tricks. He reveled over the fact that he still had several demonstrations that managed to befuddle and delight his fellow castaways. However, he only absorbed the spotlight for a short while before deciding to move on to another activity.

"Perhaps it's time for a little more music," he suggested.

"Oh, that's a splendid idea, my dear," agreed his wife, her face brightening.

With that, the millionaire rose to take his turn to wind up the phonograph. He took the opportunity to choose a record he knew to be one of his wife's favorites. Beautiful melodies once again filled the air.

"Come on, Ginger! Let's dance!" said Skipper enthusiastically as he rose to his feet.

Ginger stood quickly, happy to oblige. She knew that she could always count on the Skipper for a number of dances any time they threw a party.

Taking the movie star by the hand, the Skipper headed over to the dance area which Gilligan had dutifully raked up earlier that day. The blanket of defeat that had weighed down the captain's heart earlier that morning was gone. He was feeling his confidence renewed, and twirled Ginger around and around, taking great strides that fortunately the tall, leggy redhead was able to keep up with. She laughed and smiled and hung on tight as he spun her around with great gusto. He may not have been the waltz man the Professor was, but he certainly knew how to take the lead.

"Weeee…" she squealed with delight as another spin lifted her right off her feet.

The Professor had gallantly offered his hand out to Mary Ann and they too had taken to the dance floor. They talked while they danced. He complimented her earrings. She expressed her greatest sympathies and care over his family. Then the subject of his gifted ascot came up, and Mary Ann remarked how it looked like the very same one he had worn when all the men had tried to help her during the dreaded Horace Higgenbotham debacle.

"Now, who exactly were you supposed to be? Was it... Cary Grant… or perhaps Rex Harrison?" she asked with a teasing little smile.

"Hmmm… questioning my acting abilities, are we? Be careful…" he said with a grin, then quickly dipped her backwards and continued, "…Mary Ann, Mary Ann, Mary Ann."

They both broke into laughter as he pulled her back up and expertly twirled her around to the music.

When the second track of the record began to play, Mr. Howell rose from his seated position. "Lovey dear, I do believe they are playing our song," said the charming millionaire.

His elegant wife allowed her husband to take her gloved hand and lead her out to what sufficed as their dance floor. It was nothing like the grand ballrooms they had so often glided across in the past, but they danced as if it were. Glistening stars now took the place of crystal chandeliers and leafy jungle shrubbery and palm trees stood where fine wall finishings and brocade curtains would have been. Yet, they always managed to transcend their surroundings. When they danced, it was as if they were in a world of their own. They were Mr. and Mrs. Thurston Howell the Third, and nothing, not even a primitive locale, could change that.

They didn't often talk while dancing, but the millionaire could not let any more time pass by without complimenting his beloved companion.

"You look absolutely ravishing this evening my dear," Thurston Howell said to his wife. Looking at her glistening tiara, he added, "just as resplendent as the day you were crowned Queen of the Prune Bowl Parade."

Mrs. Howell looked back at her husband, with her mouth open with surprise until he interjected, "that is, Pitted Prune, of course."

Her smile was full and delighted. His grin was obvious.

Gilligan chose to remain where he was in order to finish off the special pie Mary Ann had made for him. As he sat on the edge of the table, savoring each mouthful, he looked at his fellow castaways. The Skipper was bounding across the dance floor. He was standing straight and tall, with a grand smile on his face. Now there was his friend as he had always known him - commanding and confident once again. Ginger Grant, the movie star, was positively radiant with her shimmering dress and glittering diamond necklace. She was just as gleaming and glamorous as she had ever been in all her pictures back home. The Howells were moving with all the grace and elegance they would have displayed at the classiest of parties with their high society friends. Gilligan reflected on how amazing it was to know a famous actress and real, live millionaires. Then he looked over and also saw the Professor laughing heartily and Mary Ann, happy and giggling. They had not been mentioned by the radio announcer that morning. To the listening audience, they were just the rest of the passengers who did not merit special mention as would an extremely wealthy couple and a Hollywood starlet. But they most certainly had equal billing there on the island, and in his heart.

The song had come to an end and the castaways had gathered around a large clam shell containing the Professor's latest creation - a "celebratory soap bubble solution" as he called it, put together to enhance the evening's festivities. He had also fashioned small bamboo wands for each of them to use, and they were all dipping them in the mixture and then blowing bubbles. Soon delicate, glistening little orbs were everywhere. They filled the air and then popped like little tiny, silent firecrackers as they ascended into the night sky.

"Gilligan!" shouted the Skipper. "Come on over and join us, Little Buddy!" he said, waving a beckoning arm.

"Be right there, Skipper!" Gilligan called back.

As he looked at all of his friends with great love, watching their smiles and hearing their laughter, a little grin crossed Gilligan's face. Secretly he decided to celebrate another anniversary that night. To him, September 26, 1964 would always be, not the day that that their lives came to a halt because of a shipwreck, but the day that a family would form that would bring joy and happiness to them all - and perhaps others somehow - for many, many years to come.

Just before he leapt off the table and went to join his friends, a smiled radiated outward from deep inside his heart and he whispered, "Happy anniversary everyone."

THE END

(Epilogue to follow…)